Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Acknowledgment
About the Author
Also Available
Copyright
“Terrific work, Stacey,” said Mr. Schubert, handing back my final report. “According to your summaries, you’ve earned so much in the stock market that you could retire in — oh, about two years.”
I giggled. “Right,” I said. “I’ll move to Miami at the ripe old age of fifteen.” I looked at the front page of my report, which had a big, red A + at the top of it. It wasn’t my first A or anything (I’m a pretty decent student), but I felt especially proud of it. I’ve always been good at math, but this class was something new. Math for Real Life, it was called. It was part of a program at school called Short Takes, in which all the students in every grade take the same special class. This is how it works: You study a subject intensively for a short period of time, and you learn awesome stuff that isn’t usually taught in school. For instance, one really cool Short Takes class was Modern Living, in which pairs of students had to “adopt” an egg and pretend it was their baby. We’ve also had Career Class, and special health and civics classes.
Math for Real Life was my favorite Short Takes class yet. In it, we had learned how to balance a checkbook, make a grocery budget, and figure out mortgage payments. We also learned how to play the stock market, which was the best part. Mr. Schubert told us that we each had (an imaginary) five thousand dollars to invest, and then he showed us how to read the financial pages and pick out stocks to buy. The report I had just gotten back showed the results of my investing, which were pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.
I’m Stacey McGill, and the school I go to is Stoneybrook Middle School, which is in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. I’m thirteen and in the eighth grade, which is why I cracked up when Mr. Schubert said I could retire in two years. I’m nowhere near ready for retirement. I have a long, exciting life in front of me, and there are lots of things I want to do before I start spending my days in a rocking chair. I don’t know what I want to be “when I grow up,” as we used to say in first grade, but lately I’ve been thinking about going to business school and becoming a trader on the stock exchange! Mr. Schubert makes that sound pretty exciting.
Another thing I think I’d be good at is running a small company — or even a big one. I’d love to own a chain of stores, for example. My math skills would come in handy, and so would my shopping skills. I’m an excellent shopper. This is partly because I grew up in New York City, which is like shopper’s heaven. If you want or need anything, you can find it in New York, usually at half price. I know how to track down all the bargains, whether I’m in New York or Stoneybrook. I love fashion, for example; I really enjoy dressing in trendy, sophisticated outfits. But I don’t just buy the first thing I see. I make a game of it: shopping around, checking prices, figuring out how to get the most for my money. Like, when I see a pair of jeans I want, I note the cost and move on. I have this little place in my brain where I remember the prices of the things I’ve seen, so it’s easy for me to figure out where to get the best value.
On the other hand, money and math and clothes aren’t the only things I care about. I love to go to museums, and dance performances and Broadway shows, and yes, even the opera. (Well, not all operas.) I guess I’m a “culture vulture” — another result of growing up in Manhattan. My parents were always dragging me to one event or another, and eventually I learned to appreciate and love the arts.
That may be part of the reason my best friend, Claudia Kishi, and I get along so well. I’m a patron of the arts (at least, that’s what my dad calls it), and Claudia’s an artist. She doesn’t just draw or paint; she also sculpts, makes collages, and creates all kinds of “wearable art.” Give her some raw materials — a few beads, some clay, a tube or two of paint — and she’ll come up with a masterpiece.
Claudia also shares my love of fashion. She believes clothes should do more than cover our bodies and keep us warm. Instead, she sees dressing as one more creative outlet, and it shows. She always looks fabulous, and she never looks just like everyone else. She’ll pair a long white shirt with a colorful vest, accessorize with handmade jewelry, pull her hair up into an outrageous ponytail, and look like a million dollars.
Claud’s gorgeous to begin with, anyway. She’s Japanese-American and very exotic-looking, with her long black hair and almond-shaped eyes. On the other hand, I’m your basic blue-eyed blonde. The other differences between me and Claud? For starters, she thinks being in math class is like being in a torture chamber. School is not Claudia’s favorite thing, to say the least. (Her older sister, Janine, is a certified genius. Honest! Teachers are probably always wishing they had higher grades than A + to give to Janine.)
For another thing, Claudia is the Junk Food Queen of Stoneybrook. Give her a Ring-Ding, and she’s happy. Add a couple of Three Musketeers bars, and she’s in heaven. Me? I don’t eat the stuff. Not because I don’t like it — I do. But I have diabetes, and I have to be very, very careful about every single thing I eat. Sweets are out. See, diabetes is this disease in which your body doesn’t deal well with sugar. This has to do with an organ called the pancreas, but I don’t really want to get into that right now. Basically, I’m all right as long as I follow my diet carefully and take shots of insulin every day. I give the shots to myself, which sounds much worse than it is. I’m used to it. I’d better be, since I’ll probably have to do it for the rest of my life.
“People! People, please settle down.” Mr. Schubert had finished passing out our papers, and he was standing in front of the room trying to get our attention. Everybody was comparing papers and talking excitedly about how much money they’d made — or lost — in the stock market. This boy, Pete Hayes, was joking about how there should be one last topic in Math for Real Life, called “How to File for Bankruptcy.”
Finally, we quieted down and looked at Mr. Schubert. “This has been a great class,” he said. “I’ve enjoyed teaching you all, and I’ll miss you when you go on to your next Short Takes class next week.”
“What’s it going to be?” somebody yelled out. “Zoo-keeping? How to Be a Clown?”
They never tell us about the next Short Takes course until the week before, which means it’s always a surprise. Some other kids jumped in with funny ideas.
“Advanced Skateboard Riding?” Pete Hayes called out.
“How To Drive Your Little Sister Crazy?” asked somebody else.
Soon we were all cracking up. Even Mr. Schubert was laughing. Then he held up his hands for silence. “Give me a chance, and I’ll tell you,” he said. As soon as we all shut up, he announced, “The next Short Takes is called Project Work.”
Everybody groaned.
“What, like doing chores around the house?” asked Erica Blumberg, who was sitting in front of me. “I don’t need a class to teach me how to take out the garbage or rake the lawn.”
I had to admit Project Work didn’t sound like a whole lot of fun. But I listened to Mr. Schubert anyway. “For Project Work,” he went on, “every student at SMS will go out into the community after school three days a week and actually work in a business of his or her choice.”
“Cool,” said Erica. “So we can, like, make a
bunch of money and get school credit at the same time?”
“Well, not exactly,” said Mr. Schubert. “You won’t be getting paid. The idea is for you to pick a place that interests or excites you, and find out what it’s really like to work there. It’s called hands-on experience. We have a wide variety of businesses for you to choose from, some in Stoneybrook, some in Stamford, and some at the Washington Mall.”
I, for one, was getting interested. Project Work sounded as if it could be fun. As I said, I’ve often thought I’d like to run a store — maybe this was my chance to see what it was like.
“The good news,” Mr. Schubert said next, “is that there won’t be any homework assignments or tests.” A cheer went up. “You’ll have to keep a journal, and Mr. Withum, your next teacher, will tell you more about that.”
I started to think about what kind of work I might be able to do. I knew my mom would have some good ideas. She’s a buyer at Belair’s, a department store in downtown Stoneybrook. She took the job after my parents got divorced. That was a hard time for me, the divorce. Here’s how it happened. I had grown up in New York, but then my dad was transferred to Stoneybrook, so we moved here. I made friends right away and joined this great club called the BSC — the Baby-sitters Club. But then my dad was transferred back to New York, and I had to say good-bye to all my new friends. Bummer. But an even bigger bummer was coming my way.
Soon after we moved back to the city, my parents started to fight a lot. Now, a lot of parents fight, and it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re going to get a divorce. But in my parents’ case, it did. When they decided to split up, my mom told me she planned to move back to Stoneybrook. My dad was staying in New York. And guess what? I had to choose which one of them I wanted to live with. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Obviously, I chose to come back to Stoneybrook with my mom, and I have never regretted the decision. I visit my dad as often as possible, and I still feel close to him. But Stoneybrook is my home now. It may not have Bloomingdale’s or Carnegie Hall, but I love it anyway.
The bell rang, and Mr. Schubert smiled at us. “Enjoy Project Work!” he said. “I know you’ll have a great time.”
Since Short Takes is my last class of the day, I headed for my locker as soon as we were dismissed. When I reached it, I found a note stuck into the vents. I could tell at a glance that it was from Claudia. She always decorates her notes with swirls and moons and stars. “Projekt Work sounds grate!” it said. (Claudia has this little problem with spelling. She says it stifles her creativity to have to spell things the same way every time.) “Meet us by the fense,” the note went on. “C U soon!”
I knew that “us” meant Claud and the other members of the BSC, and “by the fense” meant that we were meeting near the fence in the parking lot, which is where we often gather before and after school. Sure enough, when I arrived at the “fense,” I found the other members of the BSC already there. Kristy Thomas, carrying a baseball bat, was talking to Logan Bruno, one of our associate members (and the only boy in the club). Logan was holding his girlfriend Mary Anne Spier’s hand. Mary Anne was facing away from him, though, talking to Claudia. And Jessi Ramsey and Mallory Pike were chattering away off to the side.
What were they all talking about? Project Work, of course. Everybody was excited about it, and everybody had ideas and dreams about what they might like to do. Jessi and Mal were talking about working at a riding stable (they both love horses), and Kristy and Logan were trying to figure out whether they could play ball at Shea Stadium (they’re both big Mets fans). Mary Anne was saying something about running a country inn. And Claudia was talking about working as a guide at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
“Whoa, hold it!” I said. “These are supposed to be local jobs, aren’t they?”
“Sure,” said Claudia, giggling. “But we can dream, can’t we? We’re just fooling around.”
“Well, in that case,” I said, “I think I’d like to be president of the Gap.”
Claudia grinned. “Does that mean your best friend will get a discount?” she asked.
Just then, Kristy saw her bus pull up. The rest of us walk home, but Kristy lives across town and takes the bus. “Gotta run!” she said. “I’ll see you later. Let’s talk about Project Work during the meeting.”
We would all be together again in just a few hours, for our Friday BSC meeting: the baseball player, the museum guide, the innkeeper, the stable workers, and the president of a huge clothing chain. What a crew!
“I don’t know,” mused Claudia. “Maybe it would be more fun to work at the Museum of Modern Art.” She and I were in her room, waiting for the other members of the BSC to arrive for our meeting. We were still fantasizing about dream jobs.
“And maybe, instead of the Gap, I’d like to run a really fancy clothing business, like Chanel or something,” I said. I pictured a fashion show in Paris, with gorgeous models wearing outrageous clothes. “You could design the clothes, Claud, and I’ll run the business.” I lay back on Claudia’s bed and hugged a pillow.
“Sounds awesome,” said Claudia.
Just then, Kristy burst into the room. “I’ve been thinking,” she said, without even saying hi. That’s Kristy for you. “Project Work probably means we’re going to have to make some temporary changes in the BSC,” she went on. She plopped down in the director’s chair at Claud’s desk, grabbed a pencil, and began to make a list on the back of an envelope. Claudia and I exchanged an amused glance. Kristy is a dynamo. You’ll never catch her lying around fantasizing. She’s a woman of action.
Kristy is our club’s president. In fact, the original idea for the BSC was hers. She guessed that parents would love to be able to call one number and reach several responsible sitters — and she was one hundred percent right. Our club now meets in Claudia’s room three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from five-thirty to six. Parents can call during those times and set up sitting jobs. And wow, do they call. We always have plenty of work.
Our clients keep coming back because, as Kristy says, “we offer a quality service.” Good baby-sitting, that is. We keep on top of our charges’ special needs, for one thing. The club notebook helps us with that. That’s where we write up every job we go on, so everybody knows what’s happening with the kids we sit for. Also, instead of just plopping the kids in front of the TV, the way some sitters do, we have fun with them. For example, sometimes we bring along our Kid-Kits, which are boxes packed with hand-me-down toys and games, plus new stickers and crayons and markers. The kids we sit for love to see us arrive with Kid-Kits in hand. We’re also very responsible about scheduling jobs carefully, with the help of our record book, in which we keep track of every member’s schedule. We never “stand up” a client.
Kid-Kits, the club notebook, and the record book were all Kristy’s ideas. Like I said, she’s a dynamo. Kristy is short, with brown hair and brown eyes. She doesn’t waste any time on fashion or makeup: Her daily “uniform” is a turtleneck shirt, jeans, and running shoes. The running shoes are important, because Kristy’s life keeps her on the run. For example, Kristy coaches Kristy’s Krushers, a softball team for little kids.
She also has a very busy home life these days. Kristy grew up with two older brothers, Charlie and Sam, and one younger one named David Michael. Kristy’s dad skipped out on the family when David Michael was just a baby, and for a long time things weren’t easy for the Thomas family. But then Mrs. Thomas met — and eventually married — a really nice guy named Watson Brewer. Watson happens to be rich and, soon after the wedding, the Thomases moved across town to live in his mansion. Along with their new home came more additions to the family. Watson has two kids from his first marriage, Karen and Andrew, who live at the mansion part time. Plus, Kristy now has a brand-new little sister: Emily Michelle, a Vietnamese girl whom Kristy’s mom and Watson adopted. And Kristy’s grandmother lives with the family as well. Add in the pets (Shannon, a Bernese Mountain Dog puppy, Boo-Boo the cat, and a couple of
goldfish), and you’ve got one hectic household.
Kristy’s best friend is Mary Anne Spier, the secretary of the BSC. Her job is to keep the record book up-to-date. Now, while Kristy goes through life like a hurricane, Mary Anne is more like the eye of the storm. She’s quiet and shy and very, very sensitive. Mary Anne is the best listener I know. If you tell her about something that’s upset you, her big brown eyes will fill with tears and she’ll say just the right thing. And if you’re happy, nobody could be happier for you than Mary Anne. In a word, Mary Anne is loveable. Maybe that’s why she’s the only member of the club who has a steady boyfriend. He’s Logan Bruno, the associate member, and he’s seriously cute and also the sweetest guy at SMS.
That day, a bright-eyed Mary Anne entered Claud’s room soon after Kristy started scribbling out her list. “Hey, you guys, guess what?” she said, as she settled into her regular spot on Claud’s bed. “I talked to Dawn last night. She’s doing great, and she says she’s really looking forward to coming home in a few months.”
Dawn Schafer is Mary Anne’s stepsister, and another member of the BSC. She’s in California right now, living temporarily with her father and her younger brother, Jeff. Here’s how she and Mary Anne became stepsisters: First of all, Mary Anne’s mom died when Mary Anne was a baby. Mr. Spier brought Mary Anne up all by himself, and although he was often a little too strict, he basically did a great job. (How else would she be so loveable?) While Mary Anne was growing up in Stoneybrook, Dawn was growing up in California, with her mom, her dad, and Jeff. Then, Dawn’s parents got divorced, and Mrs. Schafer brought her kids back to Stoneybrook, which is where she had grown up. Dawn and Mary Anne became friends, and soon discovered that their parents had dated when they were in high school. They schemed to get them back together, and the rest is history. Now Mary Anne’s dad and Dawn’s mom (whom Mary Anne calls Sharon) are husband and wife, and Dawn and Mary Anne are stepsisters, and they live in an old, old farmhouse. Pretty cool, right?